A Hibernian Ranger
by lmayden
Summary: What if Halt didn't leave Hibernia for Araluen after Pritchard had left? What if he built a small cabin near a Clomnel coastel village and had lived there for years before a group of Araluens showed up seeking an alliance with King Ferris?
1. Chapter 1

What if Halt didn't leave Hibernia for Araluen after Pritchard had left? What if he built a small cabin near a Clomnel coastel village and had lived there for years before a group of Araluens showed up seeking an alliance with King Ferris? Sorry for the bad description!

 **~ Halt's POV~**

* * *

It was just another cloudy spring day. The clouds threatened to unleash a torrent of rain at any given moment. Halt was gloomely watching the roaring sea. Nothing out of the ordinary. Fishermen kept a wary eye on the darkening skies as they fished closer to shore than normal. Though midday, the lighthouse had been lit for any straying ships.

Halt felt the first raindrops moisten his hooded cloak. He stood and began to head home when he heard a shout from the fishermen. Mildly curious at what had drawn their attention, Halt looked to the sea once more. A ship had appeared on the horizon, and appeared to be headed for the docks. Halt's keen eyes could make out the Araluen flag raised high.

 _These Araluens are lucky to have found land before the full wrath of this storm was brought down upon them_ , Halt mused. Hibernian storms could be merciless, and April was when it was most dangerous.

Halt walked into the small, but friendly, village. The people there generally avoided him, as he was bitter at best and deadly at his worst. Some of the townspeople had paused at the docks to welcome the Araluens and offer them what help they could.

The ship pulled smoothly into an open space. After checking that he had correctly landed his ship, the man Halt presumed to be the captain called down,

"Permission to land?"

The dockmaster had just arrived and shouted his comfirmation over the waves and wind. Nodding his understanding, the captain threw down a rope ladder and one by one the people on board climbed down.

Halt was just about to retreat to the warm comfort of his cabin when he saw someone wearing familiar gear. He glanced back up to the Araluen ship. Sure enough, a man wearing muted green-grey clothes and an unevenly dyed cloak was climbing down the ladder. A longbow was over his shoulder and a saxe knife at his hip. _A Ranger,_ Halt thought. Pritchard had told him that most of them left were noblemen whom had bought their way in, but this man looked genuine.

Halt quickly came to the realization that the Ranger would recognize his cloak and moved from sight. The Ranger may have looked in his direction and Halt strongly hoped that he hadn't. He didn't have the patience to explain why a Hibernian was wandering about with Araluen Ranger gear.

 **~ Crowley's POV~**

* * *

The bleak and neverchanging ocean was unsettling to Crowley. He hated being utterly unable to disguise himself amongst the shadows of trees or under the cover of shrubs. Crowley felt as though he were being watched and stalked by an unseen predator the entire time, and the feeling of relief had been intense when Sir Rodney had called out the sight of land as the skies darkened.

"Where are we, Duncan?" Crowley inquired.

"If my calculations are correct," Duncan began as he smoothed out his map, "We are at the South-Eastern shore of Hibernia. The village of Fairwaters should be close."

"Ahh," Sir Rodney said, "I long for a real bed and food."

The waves were growing taller and Crowley nearly fell over when the ship rocked sharply portside. He dearly hoped that Fairwaters was as close as Duncan thought. Crowley spotted fisher boats moments before the light from the lighthouse shined through the darkness to them.

The crewmen turned the ship towards the lights. It was beginning to rain, and Crowley smoothed his messy sandy red hair back out of his eyes. The people of Fairwaters were gathering by the docks, obviously curious of the newcomers.

Once the crewmen had secured the ship, Duncan called down to the dockmaster below,

"Permission to land?"

The man called his comfirmation over the wind and one by one, the crew began to climb off of the ship. Crowley waited, letting everyone go before him. Just as he grabbed a hold of the rope ladder, Crowley noticed someone among the crowd, towards the back, that made him nearly lose his grip. The man was turned away, but Crowley could recognize that cloak anywhere.

 _What was a Ranger doing in Hibernia?_

* * *

 **This is my very first fanfiction! Please review and give me some advice. Questions I would like answered:**

 **1\. What was your favorite part? Why?**

 **2\. What was your least favorite part? Why?**

 **3\. What are some ways in which I can improve?**

 **4\. What are some things you would like to see in later chapters?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the great reviews! They really made my day and I decided to write and post the next chapter. As before, I still would like reviews.**

 **Oh and because I forget to put this in the first chapter, I do not own anything in this story, John Awesome Flanagan created everything and everyone used.**

~ **Halt's POV** ~

* * *

All thoughts of the Araluens had vanished from Halt's mind as the rain fell in sheets, soaking him to the bone. The only thing he wanted was to get back to his cabin and sit by the warm fire with a cup of coffee. He was nearing the hill that hid his cabin from the village when he noticed a slight movement from the corner of his eyes. It was gone before he could get a good look, but an uneasy feeling of being watched remained. Halt paused for a moment, then he reluctantly decided against going straight back to his warm dry fireplace. He turned slightly East, back towards the coast.

Whoever was following him remained just out of sight. Occasionally, Halt would catch a glimpse of a green and grey hooded figure before they hid themself once more. Lightning flashed, followed immediately by a crack of thunder, yet Halt continued in the direction of the coast.

Halt put his hand to his saxe knife, knowing that if the one following him showed themself, he had the skill to fight them. The blade had been given to him by Pritchard on his first day of apprenticeship. He may have only been trained for three of the five years, but he had continued practicing long after Pritchard had left. After all, an ordinary archer practices until he gets it right while a Ranger practices until he never gets it wrong.

Halt stopped at the tree line and looked back into the lightly forested land behind him. The figure dove behind a tree, but not before Halt could recognize him.

 _The freaking Ranger just had to see me,_ Halt glowered silently, _I'll panic him at the Ridge._

The Ridge was a tall rocky formation that protruded above the sea. Directly below it the water had pounded in a cave, visible only when you are straight in front of its opening. Halt had explored and mapped the cave a few years ago, and had memorized its every twist and turn. One of the tunnels opened up by his cabin, so he could escape the Ranger through there.

Halt trudged up the Ridge and stood at the edge. He glanced behind him. The Ranger was just visible at the tree line. Halt imagined that he was confused at his actions. As another bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, Halt hurled himself off the edge of the Ridge.

The water was freezing cold, but it was better then having to worry if the Ranger would break into his cabin at night. Halt dragged himself out of the sea, eyes stinging from the salt. Even if the Ranger was peering over the top, he wouldn't see Halt or the cave entrance. Muttering curses directed at the Ranger far above, Halt made his way through the dark to his cabin and coffee.

~ **Crowley's POV** ~

* * *

"Did you see him?" Crowley whispered to Duncan, "The man in the Ranger cloak."

"No, Crowley, I didn't," Duncan replied as he gave the innkeeper the coins for all of their rooms, "But why would another Ranger be here? The last I checked we were the only ones with Rangers."

Crowley could only think of Pritchard, but the man he saw couldn't have been him. Pritchard was a good deal taller, and he would have greeted Crowley, not leave the village. Crowley grumbled in frustration as he racked his brain for anyone else the man could have been. He gave up quickly and told Duncan that he would be back soon.

The rain was awful, it soaked through his cloak within seconds and the wind whipped his hair into his face. Crowley walked, head down to the ground to avoid his hood flying back, towards the forested hills. He could just barely see tracks leading uphill and ghosted after them. Crowley looked up to see the man standing not far in front of him. He quickly dove behind a tree as the man turned his head slightly, checking behind himself. The man didn't move for a few moments, then turned back to the shore. Curious as to who he was and where he was going, Crowley followed in the shadows.

Lightning flashed dangerously close, and Crowley briefly considered turning back to the dry inn. He didn't have much time to think on it, as the man turned his head to peer behind himself. Crowley ducked behind a tree and noticed that the man not only had a Ranger cloak, but a saxe and throwing knife as well. His hand was on the saxe.

 _He knows I'm following him_ , Crowley no longer felt like a cat stalking a mouse. He felt more like a sheep being led to a wolf's den.

The man continue out of the tree line and paused once more. He turned around suddenly and Crowley just barely threw himself behind a hardly thick enough tree. Crowley peered through the foliage at the cloaked man.

He was standing at the edge of a tall rocky cliff that dropped down into the roaring sea. The man with a Ranger's cloak looked briefly behind himself again before jumping off the ledge as lightning struck barely a half mile away.

Crowley ran to the cliff's edge. Looking over, he saw nothing but waves and foam. A minute passed with no sign of the man and Crowley grew worried.

 _Did he drown?_ , was Crowley's most prominent thought before another thought came to him, _He knew that he was being followed, there must be an escape route somewhere down there, out of sight._

Crowley watched the water for another minute, but when hailstones began to fall, he returned to the inn even more confused on the man's identity then before.

* * *

 **What will Crowley try next to find out who the Hibernian Ranger is? Will Halt return to the village before they leave? We will find out soon!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I will try to update every weekend, but this chapter is early due to less than normal amount of homework. I actually like this story and I have a lot of ideas of how I can continue it!**

 **~ Halt's POV~**

* * *

Halt wanted nothing more then to pound that infuriating Ranger into the ground. Not only did he delay Halt from getting his coffee, but he had no honey left and it was too risky to go back into the village for more. The main source of Halt's overwhelming frustration was not lingering on the lack of honey, but on the fact that facing the Ranger wouldn't end well for him. He just didn't have enough training to do so.

Halt leaned back in his chair, its front legs in the air. Thinking over his options, it occurred to him that staying at his own cabin was potentially deadly. It was close enough for the Ranger or his friends to stumble upon.

Seeing no other choice for himself, Halt fastened his cloak. He threw his bow, which he had left behind the day before as he had not expected any trouble, over his shoulder along with the quiver of twelve raven feathered arrows. Glancing briefly around his cabin, Halt ghosted towards the village, careful to remain out of sight.

Halt pressed his back to the wall of the inn. He could almost make out words from obviously Araluen speakers. Their accents had given themselves away. They repeatedly mentioned the name Morgarath, but Halt couldn't tell what they meant by it. He assumed this Morgarath to be a friend of theirs', perhaps even a high ranking general.

Careful to remain absolutely silent, Halt made his way to the inn door. Once inside, Halt checked the room. Satisfied that the Ranger wasn't in the main room, Halt sat at his favorite table. It was near the exit and in the shadows from the lanterns hanging by the bar.

Halt didn't have to wait long. He cautiously watched the Ranger and a two other Araluens wander in. Halt grimaced at how close they sat to him, close enough that if the Ranger turned around he would see and probably recognize him. The Araluen in knight's armor was the first of the three to speak.

"Duncan," he began as he looked at the other Araluen who wasn't a Ranger, "are you positive that we should go back oversees until we can dock closer to Dun Kilty?"

Halt involuntarily winced at the mention of his birthplace. He didn't wish to bring up memories of that place, and his _brother_.

The man who had been called Duncan told the knight that he saw it as their best option. They had no overland guide. It was simply too risky for them to try, even with a Ranger.

The knight clearly disagreed, but was quiet. The Ranger took his chance to speak.

"I personally think it would be easier to go overland, but Duncan is right about it being risky. If only we had someone who knew the land with us..."

He whispered the rest, as if he felt that they were being eavesdropped on. Halt could not make out what was being said and a familiar sense of frustration grew inside of him.

 _What do these Araluens even want from my brother_? _There is no other reason for them to go to Dun Kilty_...

The Ranger was standing up. He murmured something to them, presumably goodbyes, and left the inn. Now was Halt's chance. He just had to wait a few minutes as to not attract the knight and Duncan's attention. Halt impatiently watched the innkeeper's waterclock on the bar table. As the waterclock struck seven-thirty in the morning, Halt left the inn.

Halt immediately slunk into the moving shadows under the early morning sun. The storm had let off around midnight and the only sign of its existence were the puddles on the cobblestone path. The Ranger was making his way back up the hill where Halt had first encountered him the previous day.

 _So you think that you are hunting me now, Ranger_? Halt thought as he circled around the Ranger in the trees. The Ranger was studying the ground carefully, his left hand on the earth.

 _He must see the tracks I left earlier._ Halt decided, _No matter, I'm no longer down there_.

The Ranger raised his head from the ground, looking up towards the top of the hill. Halt felt relieved that he had remembered to lock his door before he had left. The Ranger made his way carefully up the hillside, eyes intently following the barely visible tracks. Halt trailed behind him, still hidden in the shade of the trees.

The Ranger had noticed the cabin moments after he had gotten to the top of the hill. He was making his way towards it. Halt ghosted over to the side of the cabin the the Ranger couldn't see from where he stood. The Ranger glanced around, as if he felt that he was being watched. He seemed uneasy now, and hesitated to move to the door.

The Ranger tested the lock. Seeing that it was locked, he pulled a wire hook from his sleeve and began to pick it. Halt saw his chance to sneak up on the Ranger while he was distracted.

The Ranger had stiffened as Halt crept up from behind him. Before he had a chance to draw any weapon, Halt grabbed ahold of the Ranger's neck and pressed the sharp edge of his saxe to his chin. The Ranger was trapped between the door and Halt's anger.

"Just what do you think you are doing, _Ranger_?"

 **~ Crowley's POV~**

* * *

Crowley was beginning to regret staying up so late last night. He had growled at Sir Rodney when the knight had woken him and glared at Duncan when he offered him a muffin they had bought from one of the townspeople. Crowley cheered up once he had been given his coffee, however.

Sipping the steaming greatness that was his cup of coffee, Crowley glanced at the waterclock on the solitary desk in the room. His eyes widened at how late he had slept in, it was seven-o-clock already! Sir Rodney was getting straight to business with Duncan.

"So, what are we hoping to get by allying ourselves with this King Ferris anyway? Besides help with Morgarath that is."

"Well," Duncan began, "Hibernia is fairly close to Araluen, is it not?"

"Well yes it is, but..."

"Hibernia could be a useful ally in times of war or trouble. We wouldn't need to wait for months while they rallied forces or sent supplies overseas. Not to mention that Clonmel is pretty strong militaristically. They would be a huge help with ridding ourselves of Morgarath before he gains too much more power within Araluen."

"But we already reassembled the Rangers..."

Crowley decided to speak his reasoning now,

"As much as it pains me to say this about my comrades, we aren't strong enough, not yet at least. We need allies that are strong, fast, or Morgarath will simply slaughter us Rangers while he takes the crown."

Sir Rodney saw the reasoning behind Crowley's words and instead suggested they go eat breakfast in the inn.

They all ordered a simple plate of eggs and bacon. Their table wasn't as far back into the shadows as Crowley would have liked, but someone was already seated at that table. Besides, Duncan and Sir Rodney would not have liked sitting in the dark.

"Duncan," Sir Rodney began, "are you positive that we should go back oversees until we can dock closer to Dun Kilty?"

"Yes I am," Duncan stated, "it is to dangerous to attempt to go overland without a guide. We don't know the people, we aren't allies with King Ferris, and our maps are likely outdated in terms of roads and towns."

Crowley started to give his opinion on the topic when he began to feel as though they were being watched. He dramatically lowered his voice. Duncan and Sir Rodney took the hint and quieted themselves as well.

"Crowley," Duncan whispered, "you mentioned seeing someone who looked like a Ranger yesterday. Does he live near? Or perhaps is he passing through? He could potentially be a danger to us if not properly dealt with."

"To be completely honest," Crowley muttered, "I have no idea. He outsmarted me yesterday and must know the land, but he never attempted to go after me. He simply led me to a cliff side and fled out of sight over the edge into the sea."

"He jumped off a cliff?" Sir Rodney seemed dubious, "You sure he is still alive?"

"Yes, Rodney. He wouldn't have gone through all that trouble of leaping into the sea if there weren't another way back." Crowley said, "I'll go have a look at the hills where he had been heading to before he became aware of my presense."

Crowley stood, and when he was pushing his chair back under the table he noticed that the stranger in the dimly lit corner seemed to have been watching them. He quickly dismissed it as coincidence as he left the inn. Crowley made his way through the light crowd of the townspeople and started up the hill. About halfway up, he noticed a few barely visible footprints leading downhill into town. They were fresh, less than an hour old. Nervously, Crowley glanced back into town, searching for the Hibernian that wore a Ranger's clothes.

Seeing no one, Crowley cautiously made his way uphill, following the tracks. They were difficult for even him, a fully graduated Ranger, to see clearly, so he was bent close to the grass. Crowley felt a sense of being watched

Glancing out of the corners of his eyes, he saw no one, but that didn't mean that the Hibernian wasn't there. Watching and waiting. Careful to not give away that he knew someone was near, Crowley looked uphill where the tracks came from. A shadow moved and Crowley could have sworn that he briefly saw an outline of a person to his right hidden in the trees.

Keeping the pretense of not knowing that he wasn't alone, Crowley moved forward. Just over the hilltop a log cabin had been built. It didn't look that old, perhaps only five years ago had it been constructed. It looked strikingly similar to those that the Araluen Rangers lived in, minus the stable.

Crowley tested the door's handle. It was locked. Crowley hadn't really expected otherwise and pulled a wire hook from the seams of his left sleeve. Carefully twisting it into shape, Crowley eased it into the lock. A slight sound alerted him of someone behind him, and before Crowley could react, he was shoved roughly against the door. Unable to move or grab a weapon Crowley twisted his head in an attempt to see who it was that had attacked him. He froze as a sharp blade was pressed to his neck and a voice heavy with a Hibernian accent growled,

"Just what do you think you are doing, _Ranger_?"

* * *

 **Catching up with reviewers' scene ideas:**

- _Rangerguest (Guest)_ \- **Hmm, I haven't really decided where Pauline will be. Maybe she is back in Araluen helping the queen keep order? Halt will eventually meet her though *evil grin*. Halt will also meet his brother again, and Crowley will be there to notice their similarities as well!**

- _Guest (Guest)_ \- **Crowley will eventually figure out where (and who!) Halt learned everything from, so that is most certainly true!**

* * *

 **What will Halt do next? Will he let Crowley go? Will he hurt Crowley? Or will they somehow start to become friends? We will find out soon!**

 _I would like reviews! They help give me ideas of what to put in that my readers would like. Here are the review questions I would like:_

 **1\. What was your favorite part? Why?**

 **2\. What was your least favorite part? Why?**

 **3\. What are some ways in which I can improve?**

 **4\. What are some things you would like to see in later chapters?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry this one took a bit longer then the previous chapters! History class just gave me a project in which I wasn't given the due date. _;-;_ I didn't take any risks and got straight to work, but here is the chapter! I apologize that its shorter than normal but I'll make the next chapter longer for sure.**

 **~ Halt's POV~**

* * *

The Ranger notably tensed, but didn't try anything. To be completely honest, Halt was finding himself fairly disappointed in the Araluen Rangers. They didn't seem that great when a half-trained Hibernian with little knowledge of the Rangers beyond fighting was taking one down with extremely little effort.

The Ranger was either deaf or unresponsive, so Halt pressed the saxe slightly harder, allowing blood to be drawn. Still the Ranger held his tongue even when Halt pressured him on what his motive here was.

Growing more annoyed with the Ranger by every second he paused his explanation, Halt increased the pressure on the Ranger's neck. Caught between suffocating or responding, the Araluen stuttered a half thought out thought excuse before twisting from Halt's grip.

The Ranger somehow managed to end up falling to the ground. Halt knew that he still had the advantage, but he became more alert, there was no telling if the Ranger was faking the weakness or not. He took a half step backwards, carefully watching the fallen Ranger. Seeing his chance to cautiously irritate the Araluen, Halt gave a sarcastic remark,

"It may have evaded your notice but curiousity doesn't give _anyone_ the excuse to attempt burglary."

The Ranger must have not heard the sarcasm, as his response was exclaimed quickly and with very little thought. Halt's opinion on Rangers dropped further, Pritchard being the only thing keeping him from giving up on the pathetic example of a supposed fighting force before him.

 _If he is trying to make himself look stupid, then he is succeeding,_ Halt thought. Halt managed to keep his patience and continue speaking,

"Then your purpose to _break into_ my house was...?" the Ranger stared blankly at Halt without a word, "I thought as much." Halt sighed as he turned slightly away, spinning his saxe dangerously fast while watching the Ranger.

The Araluen seemed to have taken the saxe spinning as a threat, as he had pulled his own out. Halt became watchful when the Ranger stood, but he made no move forward.

"Who are you?" the Ranger asked, a hint of discontent in his voice.

"What is it to an Araluen?" Halt did not want to respond to this. He couldn't let him know that he was related to the pitiful excuse for a king on the throne of Clonmel. He couldn't let him know who he really was.

The Ranger repeated himself and Halt reluctantly gave an answer,

"I'm called Halt." Halt hoped that the Ranger wouldn't want a last name. That he would not dare give under any circumstance. It was too risky.

"I'm Crowley, by the way." the Ranger said, not pushing for a last name

 **~ Crowley's POV~**

* * *

Crowley froze, fear making him unable to move. He moved his eyes as far to the left as they would allow, trying to see who it was that held him prisoner.

 _The Hibernian Ranger!_ Crowley's eyes widened at how bad his day already was when it wasn't even eight-o-clock yet.

The saxe was pressed further up against his neck, drawing blood and causing Crowley to flinch backwards away from it. The Hibernian once again demanded what he thought he had been doing, and when Crowley hesitated, the deathgrip on his neck tightened dangerously close to suppressing his air supply.

"I-I was curious on who you were." Crowley managed to force himself to speak. He attemped to escape the Hibernian's clutch, only to make his situation worse by falling to the ground. The Hibernian seemed more cautious now that he was free from his grip, however.

"It may have evaded your notice but curiousity doesn't give _anyone_ the excuse to attempt burglary." the Hibernian said dryly. Crowley wasn't positive, but he thought that there had been some sarcasm included in that statement.

"I wasn't going to steal anything!" Crowley blurted out before he thought it out. Grimacing at the fact that he hadn't thought _anything_ out so far that day, now seen as the worst day yet in his entire life, Crowley pulled himself upright. He backed away while doing so to put some distance between him and the Hibernian.

"Then your purpose to _break into_ my house was...?" when Crowley didn't respond the Hibernian went on, "I thought as much." He carelessly spun the saxe in his hand, something Crowley took as being threatening. Crowley eased his own saxe from its scabberd as inconspicuous as possible. More confident now that he had a weapon in his hands, Crowley reworded his original statement,

"Who are you?"

"What is it to an Araluen?"

Pushing down his frustration at the Hibernian's unconcerned disobedience, Crowley repeated himself. The Hibernian didn't respond immediately, and Crowley was about to say it again when he was finally given an answer.

"I'm called Halt."

Crowley was slightly disappointed to not recognize the name, dispite already knowing that they had never met before. He decided that it would be polite to introduce himself after the rather awkward and elongated silence,

"I'm Crowley, by the way."

* * *

 **Not** **too great at fight scenes, but this is better then what I normally would write. Surprising considering I wrote the entire thing in two hours! At least they didn't kill each other! That wouldn't be good for the storyline considering that they are the main characters, after all. Also, I tried to stay in character, but I haven't read any of the books in around a year (Sad, isn't it?) and I am relying on internet quotes to remember how they would act. Also, I contracted a bad case of writer's block for Halt's POV so I just wrote Crowley's first and went with that for Halt's, hope that went well!**

 ** _It might sound repetitive, but I would still like reviews! Especially on more recent possible events, those are the hardest for some reason._**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the late update! A lot of homework lately and I bought Assassin's Creed Syndicate so I've been playing that.**

 **Now that they know who the other is their individual POVs will be in the same section unless they are not near the other in order to make typing easier for me and reading easier for you.**

 **~ Halt and Crowley's POV~**

* * *

Crowley was about to continue his slight interrogation when he abruptly remembered that he had promised King Duncan that he would be back within fifteen minutes. It was way past fifteen minutes. King Duncan had wanted to leave by 8:00 that morning and Crowley was holding them up.

"I kind of told my leader I would be back about ten minutes ago." Crowley awkwardly interrupted himself.

Halt raised both of his eyebrows and said,

"Well, perhaps you should stop standing there and making yourself more late."

Crowley was trying to find a way to convince Halt to go with him. He still had a lot of questions to ask. Suddenly, an idea came to him, while Halt came to the conclusion that Crowley was the strangest thing he had ever seen,

"We need a guide to get somewhere, can you maybe go with us?"

Halt hadn't been expecting the clumsy Ranger to ask that, but he stopped himself from his automatic reflex of saying no. He had become bored doing the same thing every day, every week, every year. This was his chance to go somewhere besides to town to buy food or supplies. The chance to do something a bit less boring than watching the sea for the occasional ship. Halt wasn't going to toss the opportunity away,

"Why not?"

To be honest, Crowley was inwardly relieved that Halt had agreed. He really did not want to go back on board the ship. It wasn't as if he became seasick, he just hated the endlessly appearing waves. Besides, maybe Halt would have information they needed to convince the king of Clonmel to join with them against Morgaroth.

Halt followed Crowley from the woods back into town. The people moved much faster from their way, Crowley noticed. They had acted friendly to him when he had been alone, but now that Halt was a few paces behind him they seemed more skittish. Crowley turned and looked questioningly at Halt, who simply glared at him. When Crowley looked back at where he was walking, Duncan had appeared,

"Its about time you showed up Crowley," Duncan started, "we were about to look for... Who's that?"

He was looking at Halt, who didn't do anything to help Crowley.

"Thats just Halt." Crowley tried to explain with no information about the man behind him besides his first name.

" _Just Halt_." Halt muttered, which caused Duncan to give Crowley a weird look.

"He's going to be our guide, Duncan," Crowley continued, "so we don't need to go back oversea."

"Very well." Duncan seemed to be not totally in favor of that decision, but since it saved him from going back on the floating rubber duck of an excuse for a ship he would approve.

Sir Rodney appeared with a pack slung over his shoulder,

"Where were... Is that who you were talking about last night?"

"You were talking about me?" Halt said skeptically, "I'm _not_ an interesting person."

"Err, yes I was. Anyways as for introductions," Crowley changed the topic before Halt could possibly do anything to annoy Duncan or Sir Rodney, "This is Halt," he points to Halt, who rolled his eyes, "and this is Duncan and Sir Rodney."

"So what is a Ranger doing here in Hibernia?" Sir Rodney was straight to the point dispite Crowley attempting to silently tell him to wait.

"I live here." Halt was avoiding direct answers and was stating the obvious. He knew that it would annoy the Araluen knight and was secretly pleased to see the look on the knight's face. Duncan prevented Sir Rodney from pursuing the question for the time being and instead suggested that he tell the crew of their change of plans and that they would be going overland afterall.

Duncan took Crowley aside, out of Halt's earshot, and asked,

"Are you sure that he can lead us to Dun Kilty?"

"Fairly, yes," Crowley began, "To be honest, I know nothing about him besides his first name, but he had formal Ranger training. He doesn't just look like a Ranger, he fights like one and moves like one as well."

"Fights?"

" _Yesss_ ," Crowley mentally kicked himself for talking before he thought again, "He didn't exactly approve of me trying to break into his house. He's a good fighter so there's no worrying about having to defend our guide."

"Well," Duncan decided, "as long as he doesn't try to kill any of us or sell us out to any bandits or such, he can stay."

Halt watched them talk and knew from the strange looks Duncan kept giving him that they were talking about him. Halt wasn't sure what he thought of this Duncan and Sir Rodney, other then that neither or them seemed to have gotten a good impression of him. Duncan was obviously the leader Crowley had mentioned, from the way he acted in charge and Sir Rodney was probably a high ranking knight, but what Halt was still confused about was their intentions in Hibernia.

Eventually, Sir Rodney returned with the rest of their group. They were all knights, five of them to be exact. They were leading ten horses, which Halt figured must have been in the ship's hold. The Araluen ship was leaving, its anchor being pulled from the sea. The crew wouldn't go overland with them, but would depart back to Araluen until called back upon by Duncan.

Crowley patted Cropper's muzzle and gave him an apple he had in his pocket. Cropper tossed his shaggy mane as he accepted the sweet treat happily. Crowley turned to look at Duncan, who was petting his own horse, a bay mare named Opal,

"So, Duncan," Crowley asked, "when are we leaving?"

Duncan was adjusting the saddle straps as he replied,

"I was thinking about right now."

Crowley nodded his understanding and searched briefly for Halt. Halt was standing a little away from the group, eyeing the knights suspiciously. They in turn gave him strange looks, but looked away when Crowley came into sight.

"Sorry for all the rush," Crowley began as he scratched the back of his neck, "you don't even know where we are going and what we plan to do yet, but its kind of an emergency for Araluen."

"Why?" Halt kept his reply brief and still had his eyes trained on the knights.

"Ignore them," Crowley said about the knights, "some knights think that they are better than everyone and unfortunely, these knights are no execption. As for the Araluen emergency thing, we are at war with someone who has the upper hand and need allies."

Halt turned from the knights to look at Crowley,

"Help from Ferris? He won't help you unless you are willing to give as much money as your entire country is worth to him." Halt said bitterly, "He is an _incompetent_ fool and a _tyrant_! You are more likely to receive aid from the Skandians then from him."

Crowley had not expected this response from Halt, who now appeared angry.

"Its worth a shot after how far we've gone..."

"I knew Ferris better than any of you Araluens." Halt said sorrowfully, his voice lowered from his previous outburst, "He will sell you out to criminals if you fail to meet his demands."

Crowley was beginning to doubt their mission to Dun Kilty. If what Halt had said was true, they would have to practically sell King Ferris their country for any form of help.

As for Halt, thoughts of Ferris had driven him to anger, and he shoved his feelings away, not wanting to show any weakness. He didn't want Crowley and the other Araluens to go to Dun Kilty. They would see Ferris and would realize who he really was, as a member of the royal family of Clonmel, but he didn't have much of a choice. Halt knew the land, if they turned on him he could escape faster then a shadow on a cloudless day.

"I will take you to Dun Kilty," Halt said with all emotion gone from his tone, "if you can promise that you will not blame me for his actions and that you won't give into his demands for payment."

"Very well," Crowley said, "I promise."

Duncan called out that they were leaving and Crowley went back to Cropper's side. Halt, not knowing what he was supposed to do, didn't move. Crowley noticed and motioned to one of the horses without a rider,

"That'll be your horse, Halt. Her name's Maria and she doesn't mind strangers as much as her brother, Shadow, the pack horse."

Halt was aware that the entire group was watching him and hurriedly mounted the chestnut mare, wanting to be ignored by everyone again. As soon as Halt was on his horse, Duncan turned to him for directions.

"There are two options," Halt explained carefully, "you can either risk the highly organized bandits out over the plains through the most direct way, or we can take the caves, which although dark, have no bandits that dare travel it _anymore_ and you wouldn't have to worry about ambushes."

Crowley didn't want to deal with organized bandits with only six knights, two rangers, and one combat skilled king. He suggested the caves to Duncan, who after weighing the risks, decided to go along with that.

"Can horses fit?"

Halt gave Duncan a strange look  
"I wouldn't have given you the option if they wouldn't."

Halt turned Maria around and told the others that the caves were by the shore. They carefully made their way down the rocky slope under the ridgeline Halt had escaped Crowley from the day before.

"This doesn't happen to be where you escaped me yesterday, is it?"

"Yes, very helpful to know where to get away from Rangers who don't have a concept of personal space." Halt's reply was dripping with sarcasm.

Crowley tried again to get a positive reply from Halt,  
"What did you mean by anymore with the bandits?"

Halt gave Crowley a wolfish grin,  
"Those that enter the caves die. Haven't had a bandit problem for a good two years now and they have come to think that the caves are prowled by an _unseen predator_."

"And how would you know this?" Sir Rodney inquired.

The wolflike gleam was still in Halt's eyes as he turned in the saddle to look towards Sir Rodney,  
"Said _unseen predator_ stalks his prey and gets useful information."

The cave entrance was set back into the clifface. It already looked dark and dreary. Duncan had four torches lit before they entered, before asking Halt,

"You do know the way through the caves or at least have a map, right?"

"I know every twist and turn of every tunnel. I know which ones to avoid if you want to live and which are safe. I don't need a map, I have patrolled these caves everyday for five years now." Halt turned away briefly before looking back at Duncan, "Oh, and the caves may or may not be haunted. The worst you might see can not harm you as I'm not leading you to the _dangerous_ ones. Just thought I might warn you before you make camp."

"Why would a cave be haunted?" Sir Rodney was ever skeptical of anything Halt said,

"Because I killed them and their bodies rot in one of the back tunnels." Halt sounded so calm about it that Crowley began to worry about the caves and Halt's sanity.

Sir Rodney seemed to have similar thoughts, much to Halt's amusement, as the knight edged his horse away from Halt and kept a cautious eye on him. Aware of Sir Rodney's tension, Duncan said that they might as well get going. Halt lead them into the damp caves, all the while unseen eyes followed their every move, unable to attack as long as the one who slew them was near.

* * *

 **What will happen within the caves? Will Halt become separated from everyone else and the unhappy spirits take what little revenge they can? We shall see...**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the really late update. I promise this won't be abandoned, I've just been busy and tired lately. Luckily for me, Spring Break is here and I have plenty of time to type.**

 **~ Halt and Crowley's POV~**

* * *

They had barely been in the caves for more than an hour when Crowley sensed that they were being followed. Every time he turned around he saw nothing but pitch black, but that didn't dispell the feelings of being watched. Even the knights appeared jumpy. He looked at Halt, who seemed calm and completely unaware of the tension in the air.

"How long are we to be in these dreadful caves?" Duncan was the first to break the uneasy silence that had settled over them since they had entered the cave system.

"Two or three days at the most." Halt responded. Dispite having told the Araluens that nothing they could see could harm them, Halt knew that wasn't entirely true. He was as tense as a bow string as he searched the darkness for movement. "One day if you hurry up."

Crowley thought Halt's voice sounded strained, but dismissed that idea almost immediately when he was sure that he heard something fall behind them.

"What was that?" Sir Rodney asked as he raised his torch.

"Just a rock," Halt said rather quickly, "get a move on."

Crowley lingered a little longer then the others, holding his torch out into the shadows behind him. The dark seemed oppressive. Almost as if it were alive and waiting. _Quit it Crowley_ , he told himself, _you're freaking yourself out more_.

It was many hours later when Halt reluctantly allowed them to stop and get some sleep. He told them that it would be wise if they had someone keeping watch, and Duncan voleenteered to go first. Halt would be second, Crowley third, and one of the knights last.

Crowley loosened Cropper's saddle. The little horse gave a low rumble, obviously nervous of the caves. His eyes were wide and darting from place to place in the dark behind them.

"Hush, Cropper," Crowley muttered, "the caves seem scarier than they really are."

Sir Rodney built a fire, dispite Halt telling him otherwise. Halt knew that the knight didn't like him, but he found it foolish of him to not listen to the advice of someone who knew these caves better than someone who had never been to Hibernia. Halt cautiously stood at the edge of the firelight, staring off into the dark cave before them. He could hear sounds that he hoped the others didn't notice.

"You alright?" Crowley's voice startled him.

"Yes," Halt winced at how thin his own voice was, "I'm fine."

Halt patrolled these caves daily as he had told them. But staying overnight? That was something he hadn't dared to do in all the years that he had known the caves. He knew better than that when he could hear things during the day. What would they hear at night? Or maybe even see?

 _Shut it, Halt_ , he silently told himself, _now is not the time to show weakness_.

Crowley let his question drop even though he knew that there was someting Halt was keeping from him. He would tell on his own terms eventually, Crowley decided. He turned back to the camp and sat by Duncan and Sir Rodney, both of which seemed completely unaffected by the cave's menace. They ate some soup that Sir Rodney had brought, but Halt still lingered at the edge of the light. He turned down the food and when he did step away from the darkness, he sat away from everyone else with his back to the cave wall.

Duncan had taken his watch and everyone else were trying to get some sleep. Halt already knew that any sleep he did manage would be in short bursts and was prepared for a sleepless night. Did no one else hear the noises around them? They were quiet, but weren't natural sounding. It was like footsteps where there shouldn't be any. Whispers that he couldn't completely make out. They could be his imagination, but Halt didn't think so.

Crowley woke suddenly. Seeing nothing but the dying fire, he tried to remember what had woken him. Crowley couldn't hear anything that could awakened him, but when he tried to move he found that he couldn't. His arms and legs wouldn't respond to any of his commands.

Fighting down the increasingly high amount of panic, Crowley could just make out a dark figure hovering over him. It wasn't quite human, or at least not like any person Crowley had ever seen. It was too thin, with arms and legs that exceeded normal length. It was reaching down for Crowley's face when something abruptly kicked him in the back.

Crowley, being suddenly able to move once more, jumped into a defensive postion. He immediately realized that the kick had come from Halt. Halt looked overly calm for someone who had a razor sharp knife pressed to his throat.

Halt didn't know what response he had been expecting from Crowley, but it certainly wasn't this. He had seen him being unable to move and had acted accordingly. Halt forced himself to appear calm, as it wouldn't help to show that he was terrified at Crowley's rather aggressive reaction.

Crowley awkwardly lowered the blade. He felt bad for threatining Halt even if it was unintentional. Remembering the creature he had seen he whirled around, only to see nothing.

"Whatever it is that you saw, Crowley," Halt quietly said, "wasn't real. It was a figment of your imagination. A hallucination."

"It looked so real, though..." Crowley trailed off as he looked to Cropper. Cropper looked disturbed at his master's strange actions, but he had given no warning of danger. The other horses were completely unconcerned with their surroundings.

"That's the thing with these caves," Halt muttered as he looked out into the pitch black, "it always feels as if we're being watched and followed, but nothing can be seen." he turned back to Crowley, "I should mention that I have never stayed here long at night."

Crowley glanced back into the dark. He saw nothing and heard nothing. It was like there had never been anything there. Perhaps Halt was right? There hadn't been anything. At least nothing that Halt or Cropper had seen.

"I don't imagine I'm getting any more sleep tonight." Crowley grumbled as he sat down, this time with his back to the wall.

"Try not sleeping at all." Halt mumbled with his signature grouchy tone as he went back to his watch.

The rest of the night was uneventful. Crowley woke many more times thinking that he had heard or felt something, but each time nothing was to be found. Once it was his watch, Crowley spent the entire time standing on edge. Halt, as he had thought so earlier, didn't sleep at all. Instead, he spent the night watching the dark.

The next morning, Crowley felt as though he had been run over by a herd of horses. He hadn't slept well and never had been a morning person. Crowley jealously glared at Duncan and Sir Rodney, both of which had slept soundly and were cheerful morning people. He stopped giving them death glares once Duncan handed him a coffee.

"You okay, Crowley?" Duncan asked. He looked concerned at how awful Crowley appeared.

"I'm fine," Crowley muttered, "I've just let my nerves get the better of me, that's all."

The horses seemed much more skittish now than they had during the night. Cropper kept testing the air, as if he couldn't tell whether or not he could smell something. Now that Crowley had noticed how nervous the horses were, he saw that Halt also looked tense. He, once again, stood at the edge of the firelight. He had wanted to get moving as soon as everyone was up, but Duncan had refused. Duncan had said that they needed to eat first.

Halt glared at Duncan's back. He knew that the leader of these people didn't like him, but he knew the land better and therefor shold be listened to. _But no_ , Halt glowered, _Duncan_ _ **has**_ _to go against just about everything I say._..

The pack horse, Shadow, suddenly whinnied and bucked against the rope holding him to a stalagmite. The other horses panicked as well, except Cropper. Cropper looked terrified, but stood his ground.

"Grab the ropes!" Duncan yelled to the knights closest to the horses.

The knights managed to get ahold of almost all of the horses, but Shadow had bolted down a different passageway.

Crowley moved towards the passage, only to be stopped by Halt,

"Don't!" Halt pulled Crowley from the cave entrance, "That's one of the ones I can't let you enter."

"But, the pack horse..."

"I'll get him!" Halt put himself between the passage and Crowley, "Whatever happens, _do not_ leave this place!"

Before Crowley could say another word, Halt had run down the forbidden path and was quickly out of sight.

Halt desperately searched for the pack horse. _The horse had to run into the most dangerous part of the cave did he?_ Halt thought. This tunnel remained fairly small for a good fifty meters, only to open up into the old bandit hideout. This was where the most dangerous things slept.

The ground had a thin layer of sand that Halt could see hoof prints in. He raised the torch that he was glad he had with him. Still no sign of Shadow. Now that he was alone, Halt could hear the unnatural noises better. They sounded closer, much to Halt's apprehension. A whinny that seemed near caused Halt to speed up. If he was quick enough, he could get the horse and go back before they reached the abandoned bandit stronghold.

Shadow had gotten his reins tied to a rotten wood pole. He reared up, trying to free himself. Halt carefully approached the pack horse, knowing that Shadow could break his ribs or even knock him out of he weren't cautious.

The pack horse calmed down at seeing a familiar human, but his eyes were still wide and scared. Halt drew his saxe and began to cut through the reins. There was no way that he was going to stay so near this place for any longer than he could. As soon as the reins gave way, Halt took ahold of Shadow's bridle, not wanting to risk the pack horse spooking again.

Something moved in the cornor of Halt's eyes. Shadow tensed and Halt quickly turned back. He could hear footsteps that weren't his or Shadow's and the dark seemed to go on forever both behind and in front of Halt. He could feel panic trying to take him along with the horse.

Seeing the light of the others' torches was the first time Halt was relieved to see them. They all looked terrified, and Halt didn't even have something sacastic to say about it.

Crowley had been half scared that neither Halt nor Shadow would come back. Though Halt had only been gone for ten or less minutes, it felt much longer. When he finally saw Halt back with the pack horse he was both relieved at him still being alive and that they wouldn't be stuck in the caves forever trying to find their way out. Crowley took ahold of Shadow's bridle and glanced questioningly at Halt as for why Shadow's reins were gone when he saw Halt's shoulder,

"How did that happen?" Crowley's question sounded much higher pitched then he would of liked.

"How did what..?" Halt looked to where Crowley's eyes were, "I..I didn't even notice it..."

Halt's shirt and cloak were torn and his right shoulder was bleeding. He immediately knew that the figure he had seen and the noises he had heard were not his imagination going overboard with fear, but that didn't explain the lack of knowing where and when his shoulder had been cut. Carefully, Halt bandaged his wound.

"How can you not notice an injury?" Sir Rodney asked.

Halt didn't answer. He didn't even know himself. The wound was big, but not deep. It would make it painful to draw a bowstring, however, and in some situations that could mean life or death. The strangest part about it was that it looked to have been made by claws. It was four long scratches that started at the top of his shoulder and went down to just below his shoulderblade. There wasn't any clawed predator in the area that could do such a thing.

The moment Halt was finished taking care of the injury he demanded they get out of there, and even Sir Rodney agreed.

"How much farther do we have to go until we are out of here?" Duncan asked.

"Halt looked at the cave walls, then turned in his saddle to say,

"Another hour if you hurry up." Duncan didn't argue with Halt.

Crowley anxiously wanted out. He mentally told himself that he would never enter any cave ever again. He kept turning in the saddle to peer behind them, but nothing was ever there. How could he combat an unseen enemy? That was his job, to be unseen.

Everyone was happy to see light, meaning that the cave was over with. The cave let them out at the very edge of the plains. Halt had told them that it was riddled with highly organized bandits. Though Crowley could see none, he could see evidence of them. There were many temporary huts built far away in the plains. These huts were most likely used by the bandits until the moved to the next village.

"Which way do we go for Dun Kilty?" Sir Rodney asked as he glanced up to the sun to see how much daylight was left.

"Dun Kilty is roughly ten miles South-East of here." Halt hated how close they were to the capital. It was only a matter of time before they met Ferris and possibly turned against him.

"We can make it just before nightfall if we hurry." Crowley said, "and have real beds at an inn overnight."

Sir Rodney nodded his agreement to the mention of real beds. "What are we waiting for?"

Halt lingered behind with his horse, Maria. He was still reluctant to go on ahead, but when Crowley gave him a weird look he caught up.

Crowley didn't know why Halt seemed so against the idea of going to Dun Kilty. _What is there that he doesn't want us to see?_ Crowley thought _,_ _Besides King Ferris, that is_. Halt had made it clear the first day they had travelled together that he did not like King Ferris.

Barely any light was left when Dun Kilty came into sight. Halt was visably disappointed that they had made it. Crowley was curious of why Halt hated Dun Kilty, but decided to leave him be for the time being.

Duncan paid for four rooms. The knights split the other three rooms while Crowley, Sir Rodney, Halt and himself stayed in the fourth.

The room was larger then the one they had back in the village. It had one window, from which the castle could be seen. Halt stared blankly at said castle, knowing that he had to leave the Araluens without getting to know more about the Rangers. He was already planning multiple escape routes from both the city in general and the castle if he was forced to go with.

Crowley watched Halt stare at the castle. He was still trying to figure out the Hibernian and was failing miserbly at doing so. Halt would be a good ally, or even a friend, but he distanced himself and spoke little. Crowley couldn't tell if he was at fault or if Halt was just like this.

Duncan must have decided that now was the time to interrogate Halt as he began to ask questions,

"Why do you hate King Ferris, Halt?"

Halt looked up at Duncan. He most certainly didn't want to answer this, but they were going to find out eventually.

"You will see for yourself when you see him."

Duncan let the question drop and Crowley took to asking questions,

"Who taught you Ranger ways?" Crowley had a feeling that he already knew who.

"Pritchard." Halt muttered.

"Pritchard?" Crowley asked, "He taught me as well. He was forced out of Araluen by Ranger fakers years ago."

"He had to leave three years into my training," Halt looked to the Araluen Ranger, slightly surprised that he had something in common with him, "but I kept practicing all those years afterwards." Halt turned back to the castle sadly, "I haven't seen him for six or seven years now..."

Crowley now knew what had happened to Pritchard. He had gone to Hibernia after fleeing Araluen and had found Halt, who was presumably around the age of fifteen or sixteen. Pritchard had taught Halt to be a Ranger, dispite not being Araluen and had problably had hoped to train more, and maybe raise people against Morgarath, but had run into unforeseen problems and had fleed once more. This didn't explain Halt's hatred for the Hibernian king, however, but Crowley let it go for the time being.

They slept without disturbances.

* * *

 **I typed much more then before. Hopefully not too long.**

 **Crowley has figured out what had happened to his old teacher, Pritchard, but is still confused over Halt's disliking to the Hibernian king. As for Halt, he fears rejection from the people he is travelling with despite assuming that they would turn against him for being related to King Ferris.**

 **What shall happen next? A meeting with the Hibernian king of which Halt reluctantly attends? We shall see soon...**

* * *

 **Review Replies~**

 _Rangerguest (Guest)- _**Ferris shall meet his brother in the next chapter** * _ **evil laughter**_ * **and everyone shall find out Halt is royalty.**

 _WritersBlock-is-Lazyness-_ **I took your idea and gave poor Crowley sleep paralysis!** **:)** **He now hates caves very much thanks to me.**

 _Nightstories123-_ **As for what is in there, t** **he ghosties didn't like their cave being intruded upon very much it seems.** **:)**


	7. Chapter 7

**So sorry for the extremely late update! I'll do my best to write more and faster, especially now that I have until the middle of August to worry about schoolwork.**

 **~ Halt and Crowley's POVs~**

* * *

Halt stared out the inn window gloomily at the familiar sight of rain and cloudy skies. He was contemplating whether or not he should leave before they woke.

It was nearly five in the morning. The rain had set in just before midnight and looked as if it would stay strong for hours to come. Halt was glad of this, as it would be easier to escape in the dense rain than it would have been if it were clear. Any footprint he could possibly leave would be quickly erased.

Crowley glared at the ceiling of the inn as the sound of rain hitting a tin roof awakened him. The rain was going to make going to the castle of Dun Kilty miserable. Wanting a cup of coffee before he could get angry at any of his fellow travelers, Crowley reluctantly sat up. Halt briefly glanced up at him from beside the window as he moved.

Crowley grabbed his weapons, as there was no way he was heading into the cafe downstairs without protection. Noticing Halt's questioning expression, Crowley said,

"If they wake before I'm back tell them I went to get coffee."

Halt nodded and turned his eyes back to the castle. Now he couldn't leave, at least not without someone noticing almost immediately. _I'll have to make an excuse to not enter the castle_ , he thought bitterly.

Crowley sipped his coffee contentedly. It wasn't as good as the coffee back home in Araluen, but it was better than water.

Very few people were up this early in the morning. Two farmers and what looked to be a blacksmith were the only others besides the innkeeper who were awake. This particular inn, The Black Sheep, was the favorite in town. This could be seen by the large number of people there had been there the previous day. By midday it would be as crowded and noisy as before.

After a good half hour, Duncan and Sir Rodney came down half asleep. Neither Halt nor the knights were to be seen. They ordered coffee and food and sat by Crowley.

Once Sir Rodney had been woken by his strong coffee, he asked his companions,

"Am I the only one who thinks that the Hibernian has been acting a little strange?"

"He is definitely reluctant to go into the castle." Duncan said thoughtfully as he rubbed his chin.

"Halt did say that he doesn't think King Ferris wouldn't help us," Crowley began, "and that we would have better luck with the Scandians. Perhaps he doesn't have a good relation with the king? Perhaps the king has done something that he is really against?"

"I wish I knew more," Duncan said, "we could try to get it out of him, but with the way he is that is unlikely."

They went back upstairs after finishing the coffee and food. Crowley, who had the room key, unlocked the door and they went in. Halt was no longer staring moodily out the window and was rather hurriedly packing his stuff. He looked up at them guiltily when they came in.

"Just where do you think you're going?" Sir Rodney asked sharply.

Halt did not respond as he moved from his pack and grabbed his longbow by the window, all the while watching them carefully. He threw it over his shoulder and picked up his pack. Halt obviously intended to leave.

"Halt–" Crowley started to say as he moved closer to him and put his hand on the Hibernian's shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" Halt snapped, his voice high with fear. Crowley backed off. He could see that Halt was struggling to control himself and didn't want to be the reason he cracked.

Halt seriously wanted out. Away. Anywhere but here. He hadn't meant to sound so panicked, but his control over his emotions was breaking from being so close to here. He never wanted to leave the castle in the first place. He had been forced to choose between death or being an outcast. If he entered that place, he would be killed, Halt was sure of it. Ferris would recognize him and have him executed, or hung. Both were deaths he would rather avoid.

"Halt..." Crowley's voice forced him to come back out of his full blown panic. The Ranger looked worried and confused. As did both Duncan and the knight, Sir Rodney. They had never liked him but even they seemed a little concerned.

Halt forced himself back into his emotionless mask. He couldn't afford to show weakness, not now. The Araluens were so close to their destination. He may as well go with them to Ferris. He had the skills of a Ranger, he could escape.

"I'm fine." Halt lied. He knew that they wouldn't believe him, but maybe they would not question further?

Crowley saw past the lie the moment Halt had said it. He could tell something was seriously bothering the Hibernian, but he knew enough about Halt that he would accomplish nothing by asking. He had to wait until Halt told him himself.

"We should head for the castle," Duncan said carefully, "if we wait too long we may not even see King Ferris today."

Sir Rodney went to go get the knights, while Duncan, Halt, and Crowley went out to the stables to get the horses ready. The castle would have its own stables within its mighty stone walls.

Halt gently patted his horse, Maria's, muzzle. She was as silent and understanding as ever. Halt preferred the company of an animal like Maria over other people, as animals were much slower to judge and ask questions. Crowley was alright for a person, because he knew when to stop asking questions. Though he did talk way too much.

Crowley was silent. This was rare for him. He usually couldn't stop talking to Sir Rodney or Duncan. He was still trying to figure out Halt's problem with King Ferris and Dun Kilty in general.

Sir Rodney and the knights arrived shortly and they headed for the castle, with Halt noticeably lagging behind. The castle of Dun Kilty looked so much bigger from up close. Only a few guards stared blankly down from the wall, not really caring about foreign visitors.

The gates were open, and when they trotted their horses inside, no one came to question them. No one came to ask their purpose here. No one even looked in their general direction.

 _The guards don't care,_ Crowley thought, _why though? Why would guards trained to protect the king of Clonmel do nothing when strangers have just walked in with no problem whatsoever?_

Crowley looked questioningly at Halt, who was at his left. Halt seemed unsurprised at the lack of basic defense. He gave Crowley a look that meant something along the lines of ' _See? I told you that Ferris is insufficient_.'.

Duncan was the first to make a move. He walked his horse over to the almost empty stable, the only living thing in there being an older draft horse that had no interest in them at all. Once the horses were stabled, Duncan told the knights to stay by the horses while the rest of them found out what was going on with the castle of Clonmel.

The only kind of real defense the castle had was having the doors inside the castle locked. Crowley knocked and stepped back to Halt, Sir Rodney, and Duncan. After a few minutes of standing in the downpour, a servant opened the door warily.

"Wha- what do you s-strangers want?" He stuttered as he peeked around the door.

"We are friends," Duncan said carefully as he raised his hands to show that he had no weapons, "and we wish to see King Ferris."

"I'll see if he is available, sirs." The servant vanished, shutting the door.

Crowley looked over at Halt again. He still didn't seem at all surprised.

The servant reappeared after a good ten or twelve minutes of waiting in the rain. He told them that King Ferris would see them in a half hour and that they were to wait in the main hall.

The main hall was empty besides a few chairs and a large table. Crowley was already mentally mapping the interior of the castle. The servant abruptly cleared his throat,

"I'm afraid you will have to leave all of your weapons here." He said as he pointed to the large wooden table.

Crowley, Sir Rodney, and Duncan immediately began to discard their weapons onto the table. Halt, however, steadily glared at the servant while refusing to put down any of his weapons.

"You to, sir." The servant muttered skittishly.

Halt, all the while glaring at the servant, placed his longbow, quiver, and saxe knife down. Crowley noticed that he hadn't given up his throwing knife, and wondered what was so dangerous about a king whose entire castle was pretty much unguarded.

The king took over a half hour to call for them. The water clock now read ten minutes past the supposed time. Halt was pacing, with his hood up, behind the chairs. He was anxious to get this over with and get out of this place. He was painfully aware of Crowley's curious gaze on the back of his neck and sent withering glares at the undaunted Ranger whenever he wasn't looking.

Crowley was about to ask Halt why he wouldn't sit down when the servant finally came back. He told them that King Ferris was ready for them in the throne room.

Halt, unsuccessfully, tried to stay behind, but Crowley had been keeping an eye on him and refused to go after Sir Rodney and Duncan until Halt was in front of him. Halt still had his hood up, which Crowley knew for sure was disrespectful towards Hibernation royalty. What was Halt trying to do? Get King Ferris mad?

The throne room was huge, and way more decorated than the main hall or even the castle in general. There was the stereotypical red and gold carpet headed towards the raised throne on which the king sat. But that wasn't what surprised Crowley the most. It was how much King Ferris looked like Halt, the same shade of black hair, the same colored eyes, even the same build of body, though Halt was definitely stronger. It was almost like they were brothers...

Crowley immediately looked to Halt, eyes questioning, but he said nothing.

Halt had noticed Crowley's immediate realization when he had abruptly turned towards him. He obviously wanted an answer, but Halt refused to speak. He still had his hood up and was silently waiting for the moment Ferris would call him out. Ferris would surely recognize him. It had only been seven years since he had left.

Ferris glared at the strangers before him. There was a man in the back, a woodsman most likely, who dared to keep his head covered in the presense of a king. He would have to deal with him now in order to express his power over them in his land.

"Lower your hood woodsman," King Ferris snarled at Halt, "or I'll have you in the dungeons."

As much as Halt wanted to continue to disrespect the King of Clonmel, he had to face the unavoidable. Crowley had already come to the conclusion that they were related, and Duncan and Sir Rodney most likely had their suspicions. He pulled his hood back, and kept a steady gaze fixed on Ferris's identical to his own eyes.

Crowley was processing everything at an incredible rate. Halt was related to the King of Clonmel? Why did he have a bad relationship with him? He watched Halt pull back his hood and give King Ferris a glare that would destroy every last bit of determination in just about anyone. Crowley looked to King Ferris. He went from being in total control and annoyed with his vistors, to surprised and doubtful. He must have recognized Halt.

"You-You're supposed to be dead!" Ferris cried out as he reached for a knife that had been laid on the table beside his throne.

"Supposed to be?," Halt snarled, moving in front of the Araluens, "You tried to kill me three times, _three times_ , before I got fed up with your stupidity and left. And then you decided you had the right to send guards after me hoping they'd kill me?"

Halt would have marched right up to the unguarded king if Crowley hadn't pulled him back. Halt ignored him but didn't make another move towards Ferris. He instead stabbed him with words.

"I'll let you know that I tricked Your Highness," Halt spat out the last two words bitterly, "with the most simple trick. I threw an extra set of clothes in the river nearby and watched your dumb 'guards' become fooled into thinking I had drowned. Fooled by a fifteen year old with no survival skills beyond what he had learned as Crown Prince of Clonmel!"

Crown Prince?! Everything suddenly made since to Crowley. Halt hated Ferris because he had tried to kill him multiple times so he would inherit the throne. After barely avoiding death three times Halt had finally had enough and left. He then tricked the guards sent after him into thinking him dead and they told Ferris that he was gone for good. This made Ferris an illegal king by Hibernian laws.

Halt glared as harshly as he could manage at the cowering wimp seated on the throne. He was so angry that he didn't even care what the Araluens thought of him at the moment.

At this point Crowley didn't even think there was any reason for asking for help. If the king couldn't defend his own castle, or even figure out if he had killed a runaway kid, he couldn't aid Araluen in any way. Duncan and Sir Rodney seemed to have come to the same conclusion as they glanced from Crowley to Halt. Halt, though, still looked ready to strangle the cowerd of a king.

"Let's go," Crowley said as he pulled Halt a few more steps away from Ferris, "he can't even defend himself nevermind help a kingdom overseas."

Ferris made no move towards them as they walked away and said nothing. He was still panicing at the fact that Halt was still alive. He had been certain that he had drowned all those years ago. He would have to do something about this...

The moment they were out of the castle, Sir Rodney practically exploded,

"You're the _Crown Prince_ of Clonmel? This is the sort of information that was best heard earlier!"

"Easy Rodney." Duncan said

"I've been avoiding my past for seven years now," Halt muttered as he turned away from them to look back up at the castle of Clonmel, "Even before he first tried to kill me I didn't want to be king. He was the favorite child and I was, well, unlikeable at the very best."

"That _thing_ the favorite child?" Crowley scoffed, "I would rather have a bear with rabies for a child."

"You might be overexagerating a bit there, Crowley," Duncan said, "but he is pretty nasty."

"Caitlyn was the second favorite, even though she always sided with me when Ferris tried to get me in trouble for what he had done. Funny that only a few minutes have made me hated so much."

"Few minutes..." Sir Rodney looked confused before he got it, "Wait, is he your _twin_ brother?"

Halt nodded, going silent. He wanted to get out of the area before Ferris recovered and set what little guards he had after them.

They retrieved their horses and their guards. Duncan instructed everyone that they were to ride fast for a few hours before they stopped to rest somewhere the Rangers found. Halt didn't fail to notice that he was now reffered to as a _Ranger_ instead of _the Hibernian_.

They were retracing the way they had come from, intending to go all the way back to the little sea side town they had originally landed in to wait for the ship to come back for them. Crowley was riding Cropper a little to the right of the majority and Halt had taken to the left. This allowed them them to see easier both behind and in front of them without the Knights getting in the way of their vision. It was almost dark when Halt, Crowley, and Cropper noticed something was off.

"Did you hear something?" Halt called over to Crowley.

Crowley was about to respond when Cropper gave his warning nicker. His ears were flicking to the left and behind them.

"Cropper heard something." Crowley said, "Whatever it is, its to our left and behind us."

Halt looked over his shoulder, scanning the land behind him the way Pritchard had taught him. Not focusing on any one spot but on the entire sight.

"I can't see anything."

Crowley had looked as well, but he had also seen nothing.

"We should stop in open land." Crowley told Duncan who was looking to him for suggestions, "We'll see what's following us easier and have more space for arrows if needed."

They turned out of the woods. This was the long open plains Halt had said crawled with bandits, but it was better than risking having someone track them.

Both Halt and Crowley immediately scanned for people out in the plains. A small herd of cows grazed in the distance but were attended by no one. Satisfied that there was no threat nearby in the field, Crowley motioned for them to continue.

The sun was nearly set when a large dark shape sauntered out of the woods. It was most certainly not human, but Halt wasn't close enough to see what it was. It raised its dark furred head from the ground, likely tracking their scent. Its eyes, a deadly red and strangely paralyzing, stared straight for them. Halt tightened his grip on his longbow and drew an arrow from his quiver, resting it below the nocking point and waiting.

"What is that thing?!" Sir Rodney exclaimed.

Halt lowered his bow slightly as he realized what it was.

"Balkara, its a _balkara_." he hissed as he grabbed ahold of Maria's reins, ready to make a run for it.

"What in the world is a balkara?" Sir Rodney asked, glancing at Halt.

"Bearlike monster that has near human intelligence." Halt could see that no one understood how bad the situation was, "They are related to the _kalkara_ , that you have to know!"

Crowley may have had no idea what a balkara was, but he knew all to well what a kalkara was. Morgaroth had at least three in his service. They had thick and matted fur that was near impossible to penetrate with arrows or even a sturdy bladed sword. To make matters worse, their eyes could paralyze a person, making it hard to escape. This balkara looked smaller than a kalkara, and it had darker colored fur, but its size didn't mean it wasn't deadly.

"And I haven't even told you the worst part." Halt said.

"They hunt in packs."

* * *

 **Things just keep getting worse for poor Crowley and Halt. Not to mention Duncan and Sir Rodney. Now they have a relative of the dreaded kalkara after them! Who could have set this monster, and its friends, after them I wonder?**

 **Autocorrect is so weird on my old school iPad. Sir Rodney is apparently Sir Rodent. Halt is now hat. Crowley somehow became crow eh, and Dun Kilty is Dun Kitty. I apologize if I have missed some of its autocorrect problems.**

 **Around the middle of this** **I switched to my computer, which has a habit of deleting random sections without my notice. I'm almost positive that everything is here but let me know if something looks off.**


End file.
